She Knew Him
by Meesh
Summary: A deeper look at Jaime and Brienne's conversation in S06E08, "No One." Very short story that is unapologetically heavy on the shipping and internal dialogue. (T for minor language.)


"You have my word. You have until nightfall."

She quietly released the breath she didn't know she was holding. Not many would trust his word, but Brienne knew better. Jaime Lannister had made some terrible decisions throughout his life, and he carried the shame of Kingslayer, but she knew him. He was always trying to do the right thing, trying to satisfy the young boy he still carried inside of his heart; the boy who wanted so desperately to be a heroic knight.

 _Kingslayer_

 _Oathbreaker_

The sword on her waist grew heavy as she nodded. It belonged to him again; she no longer required it because her goal had been accomplished. Given it was unlikely they would meet again for some time, it seemed correct that she would hand it back to him. Perhaps it would help him protect himself if it were ever required.

Her hands quickly reached to untie it and she held it out to him with one hand. As she looked up, their eyes locked and her breath hitched. He walked up to her and then...hung his head. Almost in shame? Her voice lowered, hoping that some form of reassurance made its way into her voice; she was absolutely terrible at this sort of thing, but it was important.

"You gave it to me for a purpose." She paused briefly to swallow a lump in her throat. Why was this so difficult? "I've achieved that purpose."

"It's yours."

When he looked back up to her, Brienne's stomach twisted into an immediate and urgent knot. There was something in his eyes that made her hope beyond hope for once in her wretched life.

"It will always be yours."

Was he... He couldn't be. Brienne fumbled to lower the sword, taking a silent and shaky breath. He couldn't possibly be saying what she thought he was. It was a foolish thing to hope and she knew it. Idiot! She turned and walked toward the tent's exit, head lowered in frustration.

The sound of a readying army filled her ears as she stood by the tent opening. A sudden, horrible, _hateful_ image of them both on a field of battle flashed across her mind. Her feet immediately stilled. If she failed, it was plausible such an event could come to take place. It was sickening, but it was real. Did he realize it?

She spun, the words falling out of her mouth. "One more thing, Ser Jaime."

"Yes, _Lady_ Brienne?"

The playful, borderline mocking tone of his response surprisingly eased her nerves. Never before had a man saying her proper title and name in such a manner felt calming, but she knew him. Jaime was reminding her that they no longer stood on titles with one another. She knew him, but he knew her as well.

He knew she could not betray an oath, dishonor herself. He knew what she was about to say.

"Should I fail to persuade the Blackfish to surrender...and if you attack the castle... Honor compels me to fight for Sansa's kin."

His voice was smooth, knowing. His face told a different story, brow furrowed. He seemed confident but she knew him; this entire plot was far from a certain thing. "Of course it does."

As they watched one another, she had to force the words. Neither of them wanted to confront it, but it was there. Hiding from the truth would do neither of them any favors.

"To fight _you_."

Silence lingered between the two warriors like a cheap and disgusting perfume; if this were a story for the ages, the words laid bare in each other's eyes would spill forth and they would speak their hearts.

 _I don't want to fight you, kill you. I don't know if I can. Please._

He would sigh, close the tent's opening, and they would reach to clasp hands.

 _You are one of precious few I can trust implicitly. I can't imagine having you as an enemy. Please don't go._

But this was no fairytale, and they were not long-lost, star-crossed, fated lovers destined to be torn apart by politics. Brienne knew this.

Jaime breathed in through his nose once and finally broke the silence, quiet and conflicted. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

It couldn't come to that. She simply _had_ to make the Blackfish see reason; she couldn't fight Jaime, she simply...couldn't. But she would have to if she failed.

She couldn't fail him. She had failed so many throughout her life, but none meant what he meant to her. It wasn't the same as Renly. Renly valued her as a vassal, cherished her loyalty, and respected her character. She had loved him regardless, knew it was an unrequited love and had accepted that. But Jaime...

The look in his eyes told her that he was different. That he knew it was different, too.

She knew him.

And damn it all to hell, she loved him.

Before she cracked under the weight of their gaze, she fled the tent.

This ploy had to work.


End file.
